Read Online Dead Shifter Walking by Kim Schubert - Free Book Online

ranting as
I slid out the side of the vehicle, taking in the austere face of
the home. The burnt red door was marred in its intricate beauty by
the yellow police tape slashing across its face.
    Mercer walked around his classic beast, leaving
his file in the truck and picking up a briefcase from the truck
bed.
    Exiting the truck, I eyed his stiff gait and
pondered the nonexistent conversation; my suspicions were growing.
Climbing up the pristine steps, I had a plan; it wasn’t the best of
plans, but I was confident I could pull it off.
    I followed Mercer into the home, closing and
quietly locking the door behind me. He turned, raising an eyebrow,
and I smiled a slow sexy smile. “You have some explaining to do,” I
whispered.
    He bravely moved within an inch of my face, his
eyes giving nothing away. I smiled genuinely; this could be fun. I
moved my fingers to his button-down shirt, my eyes not leaving his
face. “Mercer,” I whispered.
    He growled a reply, nuzzling my neck. I drew an
exaggerated gasp, undoing the second button, my fingers stalled as
I brushed the wiretap on his chest. “Don’t stop,” he said a little
too loudly.
    I pulled his shirttails out of his pants quickly
undoing the rest of the buttons. “Take me now,” I whispered
roughly.
    “Turn around,” he growled, moving away to bang
the table against the wall, keeping in line with the illusion that
I was a succubus whore and his wiretap was destroyed in the process
by my violent tendencies. I would almost be annoyed if I didn’t
find the situation ludicrous.
    I gave a strangled cry. “More,” I screamed.
    He continued the assault on the table. “Come on
baby; you can do better,” I said with a sultry smile.
    “Really?” he mouthed at me rocking the table
faster.
    I made a strangled moan and started panting.
Mercer was concentrating on the table and never saw me rip off the
wiretap. “Fuck,” he screamed, glaring at me. Then he remembered his
part and kept his panting up.
    I smiled, moving the tap outside underneath his
truck tire. Who even used these archaic things? Shouldn’t it have
been a high-tech pen? Guess I’d have to ask the guilty party on
that and stop watching so much James Bond.
    Mercer was waiting, arms crossed, when I stepped
back in, not bothering to lock the door this time.
    “What the fuck, Mercer?” I asked with equal
measures of pissed off and slightly aroused.
    “They made me wear it—” he started.
    “Who?” I interrupted, shoving him back a
step.
    He ran a hand over his close-cropped blond hair.
“Hash,” he answered reluctantly. “He wants evidence to prove that
you’re dangerous.”
    I sighed. “You would do better with a video
recorder.”
    He shrugged. “I took the gamble that you were
smart enough to figure it out.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Well, that’s just wonderful.
Now what the fuck is going on with my file?”
    He sighed. “Hash told me to not disclose
everything to you.” He shrugged. “When you asked me those questions
this morning, I realized you were serious about catching the
murderer, so I decided to help instead of hindering.”
    I nodded. “Fantastic! I’d hate to kill you after
our romance,” I said, not smiling.
    Mercer didn’t say a word; smart man.
    “What’s in the suitcase?” I asked changing the
topic.
    He opened the kit on the carpet, revealing an
interesting chemistry set. “We are on our own with this. So we are
going to have to test everything ourselves.”
    I nodded. “Guess we better get to work.”
    …
    Four hours later, we were at a diner digesting
our findings. It was all blood, and there was so much of it, that
if a vamp had committed the murders, they hadn’t sampled a single
drop, which just didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t a single
fingerprint, anywhere. How the hell was that possible?
    Mercer had seen the scratch marks on the mother
also; although, being the stoic detective he was, he wasn’t calling
them claw marks but only suspicious